


All the Stories are True

by gianajp



Category: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S (Disney Movies)
Genre: DemonHunter!AU, Demons, Faeries - Freeform, Magic, Shadowhunter!addison, Shadowhunter!zed, Swordplay, Vampires, Warlocks, Werewolves, don’t need to know anything about Shadowhunters to read, pretty much everyone is a shadowhunter, shadowhunters!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21647920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gianajp/pseuds/gianajp
Summary: Addison is a Shadowhunter—a half-angel, half-human being that hunts demons. She travels to Seattle, where she meets Zed, Eliza, and Bonzo, who help her investigate a mysterious demonic presence in the city.
Relationships: Addison/Zed Necrodopoulus, Zed/Addison
Comments: 15
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

It was a dark night in Seattle; the smell of rain remained in the air. Addison treaded lightly in puddles, sure-footed as she slowly stalked down the empty, dank alley. Her choppy, platinum blonde hair, hidden under a dark hood, swayed with each step. She was sheathed in a dark jacket that obscured an array of daggers. 

She had been patrolling the back alleys of the city for weeks now. Every day, she would visit the magic markets and talk to her Downworlder, or magical creature, informants about local demon sightings. Usually, she would speak to vampires or warlocks, but most often, a member of the Seattle vampire clan, Willa Wren.

That day, Addison had arrived at the unopened entrance of the Shadow Market. She marched down the sidewalk, side stepping every person who nearly walked into her. A glamour rune was imprinted on her forearm, making her invisible to non-magical beings. _Vale’s Emporium of the Mystical, Magical, and Fantastical_ , a yellow, brightly painted tourist attraction, stood in front of her. It camouflaged itself as specializing in mythical novelties, yet many saw past the facade. As usual, she pressed her fist against the door, rapping a specific knock. The door opened for her, revealing the lively, bustling market of beings. Scores of booths were arranged before her, with hundreds of Downworlders ogling at wares. She passed warlocks, werewolves, vampires, and faeries, some bartering for goods while others advertised the items for sale at their stalls. 

Addison quickly strode past the other vendors before arriving at a familiar setup. A collection of deep red vials was arranged on its counter, each filled with animal blood. Willa operated her booth for vampires who had “vegetarian” diets, though her products were also used in spells and potions. Addison was immediately greeted by Mason, a short, young-looking vampire who helped out at the stall. As she walked up, he gave her a broad grin. He seemed no more than seventeen, yet she was sure he was older. He was always giddy whenever she visited the stand, and seemed incredibly interested in what was going on with her. 

“Hey, Adds! How’s it going?” he asked, averting his attention from a few customers. His chocolate eyes gleamed and his vampire fangs were on display. Whenever Addison would visit, it seemed Mason made every effort to chat with her. 

Before Addison could respond, a hand grabbed his forearm. Willa appeared at his side. 

“Could you leave us alone for a moment, Mason?” asked Willa. She seemed tense, in a rush to speak with Addison. The Shadowhunter felt surprised by the vampire woman’s abruptness; Willa gave her employee an urging, rigid glare.

“Uh…yeah, of course,” Mason said, obviously confused by her urgency. “I’ll catch ya later.” Giving Addison one last smile, he retreated to chat to some customers. Meanwhile, Willa’s leg bounced and her eyes danced, looking to see if anyone was listening. Typically, she was calm and charming, yet that day she was nervous, even distracted, as if she had something on her mind.

Usually, Willa told her gossip she had heard from other Downworlders. She told her about a few vampires who had disappeared in the Seattle clan. Apparently, they had gone out to the Shadow Market that night, but had not returned to the nest. It had been days since their disappearance, and the other members of the clan had begun to suspect something was not right. 

Willa looked around to make sure the two were out of hearing range before continuing, “But, there is one thing in particular I thought you might find interesting. There has been a rise in demon attacks near the Denny.”

Addison listened intently, considering all her possible plans for that night. But before she could leave, Willa put her hand on the other girl’s shoulder.

“Listen, I know there is something you aren’t telling me,” Willa said, looking into her eyes, “And I know you’re going after whatever is causing all of this. But please, if you can, find Mark and Roxy. We want them home.” She pleaded with her. The vampire’s gaze was desperate. It was a side of Willa that she had never seen before that day. 

The unlit walls loomed over her, obscuring her path from any of the city’s light. Addison listened to the familiar sounds of the night, the distant buzz of traffic, people walking aimlessly through the streets, as she traced the path. She listened closely for signs of anything approaching, a Hearing rune etched into the side of her thigh. Ancient runes heightened her senses, giving her the edge to navigate through the city at night. Her broadsword, Alitheia, tapped against her leg with each step.

Her night vision rune flared on her forearm. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a figure jumping out of the shadows. Alitheia was in her hands in moments. As the shadow bounced towards her, she swung her sword. The monster darted back, narrowly missing the demon’s side. Before she could strike the monster again, a pair of claws pierced her jacket, sinking into her sides. Addison cried out, then reached into her jacket and grabbed a blade. She forced it into the demon behind her. It released its grip on her sides and wailed as Addison turned and sliced Alitheia through its neck. She retrieved the dripping dagger from the creature’s body, and the scent of burning flesh filled the air as it shrieked and erupted in a cloud of smoke and ash. 

Her hand rushed to her side as the skin seared. Black spots in her vision begun forming. The demon must have had venom on its claws. Within seconds, her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. As she faded out of consciousness, guttural shrieks echoed through the alley. 

The last thing she saw was a dark, hooded figure standing over her, holding a celestial, glowing blade.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Everything was hazy. She felt a comfortable, enveloping bed with clean, cotton sheets beneath her. A spike of panic immediately seized her. _Where am I?_

Auburn light shone through a large glass window to the left of her bed. Addison blinked the blurriness away, rising to flee. Her hunting gear was gone, replaced by cotton pajamas bottoms and a gray tee shirt. 

She swung over the side of the bed, her toes barely touching the ground. Addison was petite for a Shadowhunter. Both her parents stood tall, yet she had grown to be the smallest in her family. 

The second she shifted her weight to her feet, dark spots began forming, and her ankles buckled. She landed on her knees, catching herself with her hands. 

Addison cursed—she was still weak from the demon venom. One of the last things she could recall was a monster’s claws ripping into her sides, and battling with several creatures. Now, she appeared to be in an infirmary. 

She attempted to stand herself up, grasping the footboard of another bed for support. Her toes touched the cold marble floor. She pulled herself up, her head spinning.

A bubble of conversation and giggles erupted from outside the grand oak doors to her right. 

“Come on, Zoey,” a deep voice called from outside the infirmary. 

A spike of panic pierced her chest; there was someone coming. In search of her possessions, Addison looked on the nightstand, under the bed, and ripped apart the sheets. Alitheia was nowhere. Her heart rate began to speed up. Her only option was to fight with her hands.

Addison hastily dropped to the ground; the second she hit the floor, her head began to swim. _Oh, this won’t be easy_ , she thought to herself, and quickly tucked herself under the bed.

Once she settled in, the doors creaked open. The murmurs of conversation became clearer: it was the voices of a man and a young girl. 

“Well, Zed,” a high, bell-like voice began, “while I think your opinion is valid, you would have to be _an_ _idiot_ to believe Edward was actually the best option for Bella. You see, he was ruled by his…” the young girl trailed off. There was a pause. 

“Zoey, why don’t you go get Dad?” the boy asked, comforting his sister, and was followed by the patter of footsteps echoing on the walls.

A pair of black, worn out combat boots crept into view as the boy searched. Addison waited until he passed her bed before emerging from her hiding spot. She threw the man to the floor. He grunted as his face made contact with the marble. She turned him over, then straddled his stomach, her forearm on his throat and her feet pinning his arms. Even though she was much smaller than him, she knew how to use her size to her advantage; he was powerless.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Addison demanded, her hair hanging down as she pressed her forearm further into his throat. The man’s widened hazel eyes looked back at her. Their faces were only inches away.

His mouth gaped, aghast.

“Answer me!” she shouted, asserting her power in the situation.

“I’m…I’m a Shadowhunter. You’re in the Seattle Institute.” he managed, his voice low. An Institute was a safe haven for Shadowhunters, meant to house them while they were on missions. There was one in almost every major city in the world, though it had been years since Addison had entered one. She had known of the existence of one in Seattle, yet she had done her best to avoid it.

She took that moment to analyze the man whom she had pinned down. He had dark brown, almost black, hair. His eyes were a warm hazel, the color of firewood, like the type her grandfather would use to warm up their house in Idris. _Beautiful_ , she thought to herself. Just as she admired his eyes, she noticed blood seeping from his nose. A pang of guilt struck her chest, shaking her from her stupor. She quickly released him, offering a hand to help him up. 

“I’m so sorry,” she rushed out, “I thought I was kidnapped and that you were some crazy psychotic demon murderer. And that you were gonna torture me and make me give up information which I _do not_ have.”

He quirked an eyebrow, slightly amused. He realized she was harmless. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, dismissing her as he went to grab a rag for his bleeding nose. Then, he retrieved a _stele,_ or a slender, silver, branch-like tool, from the ankle of his boot and etched a healing rune, or an _iratze_ , into his wrist before turning to her. “All good, see,” he said, showing her the Mark.

“Good,” she paused, trying to make the situation less awkward, though her shifting wasn’t helping at all. There was a strange mix of discomfort and anxiety, her stomach twisting and turning under his hazel gaze. “I’m Addison.” she said, offering a runed hand.

The boy gave her a surprised look before offering his own hand, “Zed Necrodopolous,” he said, analyzing her.

She had probably seemed crazy to him, wearing these cotton pajamas and trying to be friendly after assaulting him only a minute ago.

They shook hands for a second, then stood in an uncomfortable silence. Addison rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking from his face to the ground, before Zed’s voice drew her attention back up to him. “How are your wounds?”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly remembering her injury. She lifted her shirt just enough to see a large bandage around her waist, covering each gash. “I had almost forgotten. All I feel is a little dizziness from the venom, but that’s it.” 

“Good…” he trailed off, avoiding her gaze, “My friend Bonzo took care of it for you, he was here for hours sewing it up before an _iratze_ would work. We even had to call some warlocks to get most of the venom out.”

Addison gaped at that, “Thank you so much…” she said, feeling awkward, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well you probably shouldn’t say anything, or be standing. You’ve been out for two days,” he said, grinning, “I don’t even know how you had the energy to tackle me like that.”

She quirked a challenging eyebrow, saying to him, “For a Shadowhunter your size, it was really easy to take you down, Necrodopolous.” 

His eyebrows went up and he crossed his arms. “Is that a challenge, Miss Addison?” 

“Rosedew,” she blurted out, “My last name. It’s Rosedew.”

He blinked, his brows furrowed, “Like Consul Rosedew?” he said, realizing, “Is that your mom?” The Consul was the equivalent of the prime minister of the Shadow World, presiding over the Council and ensuring that the rights of Downworlders are protected.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, averting her gaze from his face.

“Cool,” Zed said, noticing the change in her mood, “Hey,” he said, changing the topic, “you haven’t eaten in days. Let me take you downstairs, you can meet the gang and we can get you some real food.”

Addison brightened up at that, “Great, I’m starving!”

The boy showed her out of the infirmary’s grand oak doors and into the rest of the Institute.


	2. Chapter 2

The Seattle Shadowhunter Institute opened up before her. Stone-colored pillars soared above her head, guiding her gaze to a stained-glass sky light. The walls were decorated with ornate statues. Across from her was an angel covered in magnificent vestments, wielding a large sword. Addison could just make out the engraving below it: _The descent into hell is easy_. It was an ancient Shadowhunter saying, reminding them of their mandate to use their powers to fight evil, not to perpetuate it. Addison took a few steps from the doors before peering over a railing to see a grand staircase with cracked marble steps stretching down to the entryway. 

She felt the boy’s eyes on her, a proud grin stretching across his face.

“Home sweet home.” Zed said.

“It’s…” Addison began, blinded by the bright-burning chandeliers, “Wow.” she said. It had been years since she had been in an Institute, or had had any contact with other Shadowhunters at all. Although she hated to admit it to herself, she had missed it: the gilded, ancient Institutes, the weirdly ominous sayings—everything.

The scent of freshly-cooked pancakes drifted through the entryway. The boy stole a glance at the girl before leading her down the grand stairs. Her toes touched the frigid steps; a chill sent through her as she gazed in wonder at the architecture.

Once they walked down the stairs, they took a sharp turn to a hallway behind the staircase, which was dimly lit by only a few sconces. The muffled sounds of laughter came from the inside of one of the rooms. Zed placed a runed hand on the door, pushing it open. The scent of pancakes suddenly became stronger, rushing towards her.

The sizzling of bacon mingled with the nasally voice of a girl. “No, Bonzo,” the unknown woman said, teasingly, “Like this.” 

Before Addison could peak around Zed’s shoulders to see the source of the voice, a giant thud pounded against the marble floors. 

Zed burst out laughing, a lively chuckle, making Addison jump. “Guys,” he said, attempting to stifle his laughter, “There’s someone you should meet.” Addison creased her forehead, stepping from behind Zed. An industrial kitchen with metallic appliances was on the left side of the room. A chestnut kitchen island was splayed with a variety of bowls and ingredients. On the other side of the room was a circular table.

A mess of chocolate curls popped up from behind the island. “Oh!” the girl shouted, straightening herself up. 

“This is Addison.” Zed said.

A curtain of hair draped over her shoulders, curling around the runes on her arms and neck. The light-skinned girl wore a small tank top, revealing muscled shoulders, “Hi, I’m Eliza!” she said energetically. Her eyes then flitted between Addison and the floor as she turned impatient, “Get up!”

A giant figure rose next to Eliza, dwarfing her. His shoulder-length brown hair was tousled. The man’s gaze focused on Addison, raising his eyebrows at her. 

“This is Bonzo,” Eliza introduced. Bonzo raised a hand to wave before turning to the girl beside him and signing something.

She looked at him and nodded, “He says he’s glad you’re feeling better,” Eliza translated.

“Thank you,” Addison said shyly, “For saving me, for fixing me up, everything.”

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the halls. “Zed!” it yelled, startling them. 

Zed paled at the voice. 

Within a few seconds, someone barreled into the room, startling the others in the room. A tall man hung in the doorway. He looked between Zed and Addison, his bronze stare solid. 

“Zed,” the man started, “I’d like to see you and our new guest in my office.”

* * *

The man led her to a cluttered office. Piles of papers and boxes towered over their heads. In the center was a large desk with two leather chairs in front of it. A letter was open on his desk, and a pen sat next to it. 

On the further side of the room was a spiral staircase, leading to a second floor looking equally as cluttered with a collection of books, knickknacks, and loose papers.

The man gestured for her and Zed to sit down, the two taking a seat across from him. Addison tried to keep her legs from shaking. Though she was not scared of this man, she was unsure of what he had to tell her. 

_Your mother knows you’re here_ , he may say. Or even worse, _she's on her way to see you._ She shuddered at the idea. She and her mother were not close, to say the least. Addison hadn’t seen or talked to her in years, in fact, she was partly to blame for Addison’s withdrawal from Shadowhunter society.

“Firstly,” he started, obviously of a more pleasant demeanor than when he rushed into the kitchen, “I hate to have been so rude. Let me introduce myself,” he said, reaching out a hand, “I’m Zevon Necrodopolous, Head of the Seattle Institute.”

Every Institute was run by a certain person or family. Typically, the Head’s family lived with them; their children were raised and trained there instead of being sent to the Shadowhunter Academy, the place where Addison had been trained.

 _Necrodopolous_. Addison looked to the boy on her left, then back at Zevon. She scanned him, dwelling on his hazel eyes for an extra second. Although she hadn’t noticed it earlier, it was now obvious: he was Zed’s father. The man was admittedly shorter, paler, and less fit than his son. Though, their eyes and strong brows were the same.

“Addison Rosedew,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Oh, I know who you are,” Zevon said. Addison raised her eyebrows at this, her mouth opened a little, “You’re Missy’s daughter. She and I have been dear friends for quite a while. I recall visiting you and your family back in Idris, before your mother became the Consul,” he said with a small smile, “Though, I was surprised to see the kids bring you back home from patrol.”

Idris was the Shadowhunter country, hidden from all human maps. It was tucked between much of the larger European nations and was surrounded by mountains. It was even hidden by a glamour, or shielding magic, so that no mundane could ever stumble upon it.

Addison had grown up in Idris with her family. She was raised in the Rosedew family home, a mansion tucked away in the quiet countryside. She had lived there most of her life; almost all of her memories had been of playing in the manor, training with her cousin, and visiting the capital city Alicante with her mother. Yet, she had no recollection of meeting this man.

“I remember you!” Addison said, a fake smile on her lips as she tried to remain pleasant.

“It’s not often we get other Shadowhunters around here and when we do, they usually come straight to the Institute.” Zed added.

“Speaking of which, Zed,” Zevon interjected, “Why don’t you go set up a room for Ms. Rosedew? I’m sure she will be needing a place to stay.”

The boy nodded, taking one last glance at Addison before he stepped out through the office doors.

“If I may ask,” Zevon started, once Zed shut the doors, “What are you doing here in Seattle, Ms. Rosedew?”

She tried to keep her voice clear as she said her next words, “I was sent by the Clave. There seems to be a group that’s peddling demon blood to mundanes.”

Mundanes were non magical beings, or anyone who was not a Shadowhunter or Downworlder. The Clave was the equivalent of the Shadowhunter government. It was their job to enforce laws in the Shadow World, protect the world from dangerous creatures in addition to preventing its existence from being exposed to mundanes.

Zevon scratched his head at that, “Then why haven’t _we_ noticed any mysterious mundane deaths? If there was anything dangerous happening in the city, wouldn’t we be the first to know?” he said, trying to daunt her. 

“Actually,” Addison said, “the victims display similar symptoms to typical mundane drug users: amnesia, hallucinations, and, most often, death. It wasn’t easy to spot, but the Clave has observed similar cases all over the country.” Okay, not everything she had just said was a lie. Many of the victims of the demons she was looking into experienced amnesia. And many of them died. Though, Addison knew these cases had nothing to do with someone selling demon blood to clueless mundanes.

“They’ve had me on this mission for a while now,” she continued, “and we finally found a lead here in Seattle. There was a building we suspected to be their headquarters out in Queen Anne. I was investigating it when I was attacked,” Addison said, observing Zevon’s reactions. He nodded along as she told her story, giving no emotions away, “I had no idea that they were employing their own demon security. That was why I went alone. I was only meant to scope out the place, but they sent the dogs after me.”

Zevon pursed his lips, considering her narrative, “I understand,” he said, the creases in his forehead deepening, “But why didn’t they send you to the Institute? It’s usually the first place they call when there is an issue in the city. And we would’ve provided you with weapons and backup.”

Addison nodded, “I understand, but I think the mission is coming from outside of the Clave. When I asked my mother about it, she was very vague, as if an outside source commissioned the Clave to employ Shadowhunters to investigate something dire to them,” she said, blowing up smoke, “in fact, my mom gave me the impression exposing its existence may jeopardize its success.”

“Hmm,” Zevon said, narrowing his eyes at her. Addison tried to appear sincere, and maintained eye contact with him. She wondered if he could see through her act. If he truly knew that she was no envoy from the Clave, but a rogue Shadowhunter with a personal vendetta.

A light knock at the door awoke Zevon from his thoughts, “Come in,” he said, mildly peeved.

She turned to see the hazel eyes that she had become so familiar with. Zed stood at the door, peeking his head into the office, “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, feeling the tension in the room, “Addison’s room is all ready.”

“Thank you, Zed,” Zevon said, moving back to Addison, “Ms. Rosedew, I understand your situation. The Shadowhunters of the Seattle Institute will be here to assist you. If the Clave has any further comments about your mission, please inform me,” he said, picking up a pen and paper, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important affairs to give my attention.”

As Addison exited the room, she felt Zevon’s eyes following her out.

* * *

Addison laid on her stomach on the silk sheets of her bed at the Institute. Zed had showed her to her room, in a hallway among hundreds of other guest rooms, all waiting for Shadowhunters to fill. The Institutes were built as asylums for Shadowhunters all over the world. They were constructed for the occasion that hundreds of Nephilim were needed in one city, and they would all have a safe haven to stay.

Her short blonde hair hung in her face as she was constantly blowing strands out of her eye line. Her blue eyes stung as she looked down at her journal. A sense of exhaustion slowly overcoming her after a long night of writing and research. The leather notebook was stuffed with a variety of notes and newspaper clippings, all leads in the murder case.

Slowly, her head began throbbing. Addison sat up as black spots flooded her vision. She blinked them away as she felt a dull pain in her stomach.

 _Maybe I could sneak down to the kitchen for a midnight snack_ , she thought to herself. She slid off the bed and onto the pristine wood floors. 

She padded over to the door before opening it towards her. Just as she pulled it open, Zed stood in front of her, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock. His eyes widened at the sight of her standing there and he quickly lowered his hand. 

“I...um, brought you this.” Zed said, holding up a plate with two nicely cut sandwiches.

“Thanks…” said Addison. The girl wasn’t quite sure what to do with the boy standing in her doorway. It felt wrong to say thank you then shut the door in his face. 

She looked him up and down. He was wearing a faded white t shirt splattered with all sorts pinks and greens; a jeering shellfish danced on the front, and underneath it, the words _The Mighty Shrimp_. On the bottom, he wore a pair of black sweatpants. 

Her gaze then fell to the floor. Zed was wearing large, white bunny slippers, with a bright pink nose and floppy ears. Addison looked back up at the boy’s face, an eyebrow cocked.

“Uh...my sister likes it when I wear them.” he said, his cheeks blazing.

Although she knew he was just giving her an excuse, she let it slide.

“What are you doing up so late?” she asked.

“Oh, I was just wandering around and I saw the light under your door. I figured you might be hungry.” he replied, looking away from her.

Once Zed had escorted her to her room earlier that day, Addison had pretty much stayed there for the rest of the night, consumed in her notes. She hadn’t even taken a moment to eat since waking up; her conversation with Zevon made her lose her appetite, and she hadn’t thought about it again until her head had started to throb.

“Thank you again,” she said, “Do you want some company on your wandering?”

Zed looked up from his hands, surprised by her random wish to join him.

“Uh, yeah,” he stumbled, “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Addison quickly ran to her bedside and blew out her candle before running back to Zed and taking the plate from him. 

“Let’s go,” Addison smiled.

* * *

The two strolled around the dark, empty Institute. Every small shuffle of Zed’s fuzzy bunny slippers echoed off the stone walls. 

The only sounds between them were the occasional crunch of Addison biting into her sandwich. She had to keep herself from moaning at the overwhelming flavors, like the tanginess of the Swiss and saltiness of the ham. Or maybe she was just hungry.

“By the Angel,” she said, “This is fucking amazing.”

Zed immediately peered over at her, an eyebrow raised.

“Did I just say that out loud?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Oh,” she said, “my bad.” 

Addison cursed herself in her head. _My bad?_ , she thought to herself _. I can kill vampires, werewolves and demons, but can’t talk to hot guys to save my life._

There was a small silence before Zed said, “So, where are you from? I assume not around Seattle ‘cause we’ve never seen you ‘round these parts.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised by his random question, “I’m from Idris. Born and raised.”

There was a small pause before Zed replied, “Cool,” he said, “I’m from here. I've lived in Seattle my entire life.”

Addison nodded. “Okay, cool.” she said, “Now, it’s my turn to ask you a question. What the _hell_ are _The Mighty Shrimp_?”

“Oh, they’re a mundane rock band. I actually went to one of their shows down at the Showbox,” he said, “I met this pixie girl and we… Well, maybe I shouldn’t share that part.” His tanned cheeks burned red.

Addison let out a small giggle, for a giant demon-killing half Angel person, he got flustered really easily.

“Yeah,” he said, a nervous grin on his lips, “It’s not as cool as it sounds. We made out a bit and then she offered to tell me when everyone in my family would die…” his gaze fell to his slippers, “So, yeah.”

Faeries were known as the _weirdest_ and most conniving members of the Shadow World, to say the least. They always played tricks on mundanes and Shadowhunters, and their schemes often had a body count.

 _This guy is such a fucking dork_ , she thought to herself.

“Now, my turn, what are you doing here in Seattle?” he asked, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets.

“Oh,” she said, almost choking on her sandwich, “I’m on a mission from the Clave…and...um…there’s a group of werewolves peddling demon blood to mundanes.” 

After a few short seconds, Addison’s stomach churned, nausea rising in her throat. She stopped walking and made a pained face, her hand reaching for her stomach. 

Zed knitted his eyebrows together, “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, swallowing back bile, “I’m just... having a bit of a stomach ache. I’m fine.” she assured Zed, waving him off.

He nodded, his jaw set. “So, the Clave put you up to this mission?” Zed asked.

“Yep,” she said, her stomach groaning, “You know the Clave. The good ol’ Clave. Always putting us up to stuff,” she hugged her stomach, _What the fuck was going on?_ Addison thought to herself. “I’m sorry, Zed. I’m not feeling super great right now.”

“Why don’t you go call the Clave? Maybe they could help you out.” All the initial nervousness and worry in his face had fled. His once soft brown eyes now looked almost black.

Her heart fell into her stomach.

“Now why are you _really_ here?” asked Zed.

“What...what are you talking about?” said Addison, trying to cover up her lie. She took the extra moment to think of an escape. Zed was stepping closer to her as he interrogated her, trying to be intimidating, which was really hard to do considering he was wearing _bunny slippers_. 

Zed only had a few strides before she had no way to escape. If she ran now, she might get away. But even then, Addison was positive he would catch up to her. Even if he didn’t at first, he knew the Institute better than she did; he would find her in minutes.

“I put a faerie truth serum in your sandwich,” he said, his gaze still solid, “It’s supposed to give you stomach pains every time you lie. My dad had a feeling you weren’t telling the truth, and he asked me to look into it. At first, I felt really bad about it, I thought he was just being paranoid. But I’m not going to let anyone come here and fuck everything up.”

Every cell in her brain told her to run, to take her chance. _This is why I never came to this stupid place_ , she thought, _I don’t need a bunch of the Clave’s errand runner’s making her mission their business._

“Now, who sent you, and what are you doing in Seattle?” he said, keeping his voice low.

Addison looked him in the eye. She started to feel fury building in her chest. She gritted her teeth, “I can’t tell you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Well, it’s certainly gonna be the Clave’s business when they take you in for questioning,” Zed threatened, “Maybe you’ll have something to say when they give you the Mortal Sword.”

The Mortal Sword was an ancient sword given to the first Shadowhunter by the Angel Raziel, who gave his blood to create the Shadowhunters. Whoever held it was faced with agonizing pain, willing one to tell the truth. 

“Fine,” she said, “I’m looking in to demonic murders. _That_ part is true.”

He nodded, his gaze still steady on her face.

“Someone or some _thing_ has been leaving bodies around the country. Boston. New Orleans. Las Vegas. Now, here. They’re killing people by the dozens and the Clave is doing nothing to stop it.”

“They’re kidnapping people and then returning them with no memories of being taken. They’re _killing_ people. And they’ve got their own gang of demons. Now, I know I definitely sound crazy, but I’ve been looking into this for years. Something is going on and I need to stop it.” Addison continued.

Zed searched her face. “But why,” he asked, “Why are you doing this? Investigating these killings all on your own?”

“Because the Clave won’t do anything about it,” she said, clenching her fists. “I implored my mom to investigate it, and she did nothing. No one wants to take action, so I will.” Zed didn’t need to know her _entire_ reason, just enough for him to believe her and for Addison not to keel over with nausea.

The boy looked over her face, as if he was finally deciding if he believed her, if he would turn her in and ruin her mission. After a long moment, he finally said, “Well then, I’m in.”

“Wait,” she said, her mouth agape, “What?”

“I’ll help you,” Zed said, his mind made up.

“I wasn’t asking for your help!”

He looked at her, his gaze solid. “I wasn’t asking to be a part of this mission. I will be. Now, when do we start?”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y’all! Thanks for being so patient in waiting for this next chapter. Without further ado, here’s chapter 3!

_Addison looked out onto the Charles River. Thousands of headlights bustled across the Longfellow Bridge. The smell of vanilla candles drifted through her apartment. Her head was clear as she sat at the window, focus stolen from_ The Extensive History of Witchlight _laying open_ _on her lap. The faint beeping of car horns echoed through her mind as she gazed out the window._

_ She watched the boats coast down the river. As she sat in a haze, water droplets began to ripple off of the waterfront, and the roar of rain slowly became louder as beads eventually hit the windowsill. _

_ “Stay here,” her cousin had said to her earlier. “As much as we’ll need you out there, we need you more right here. If any of us get hurt, you’ll be close by to help.”  _

_ Addison and Bucky had volunteered to investigate some demonic activity around Boston. She thought it was the perfect opportunity to show the world what Addison Rosedew could do, but her mom decided she was too inexperienced and made sure that Bucky kept her on the sidelines.  _

_ “But how am I supposed to help if I’m stuck sitting around reading about the history of witchlight? Witchlight, Bucky! It’s a miracle I haven’t already taken my eyes out with a seraph blade.” _

Parabatai _ were a pair of Shadowhunters who took an oath to always fight by the other’s side. Addison and her  _ parabatai  _ Bucky had gone through a big ceremony where they carved the  _ parabatai _ runes onto each other: hers on her shoulder, and his on his forearm. She recalled the sensation of their souls becoming bound, the feeling of her life melding with his.  _

_ The  _ parabatai  _ bond allowed two Shadowhunters to think and fight as one during battle. They drew on each other’s life force and made each other stronger. _

_ Her cousin had stood before her, dark black hair perfectly styled atop his head, though slightly overgrown as small locks curled against his forehead. Her parabatai was a head taller than her, and he looked down at her as they spoke. He was already dressed in his Shadowhunter gear: a hooded coat hanging on his shoulders, and dark, lightweight pants that allowed him to fight easily. Around his waist was a belt adorned with a  _ stele _ , witchlight, seraph blades, or special celestial swords made especially to fight demons, and his axe. With his dark hair, dusky outfit, and jet black eyes, he looked like he would blend in perfectly with the shadows. _

_ Addison pouted her lips. “I thought you knew me better than to think I would just sit around here while you all were out risking your lives.”  _

_ Bucky’s friend, Lacey scoffed, “We don’t need a little girl’s help.” _

_ Addison was ready to launch herself at Lacey, but Bucky caught her first. She shot her  _ parabatai  _ a look,  _ You let them do this _ , it said. He put his hand on her shoulder, his ebony eyes looking down at her.  _ You know you could beat her in a second _ , Bucky‘s face said, giving her a chastising look,  _ Just let it go. 

_ The two of them had known each other their whole lives. They had played together as kids. Trained together at the Shadowhunter Academy. He had known her better than anyone. And he knew especially how to end her temper tantrums. _

_ His look made her cool down. Addison resigned, sighing. “Fine, but let me rune you up.” She said. _

_ The boy pulled a  _ stele _ out of his belt and handed it to her. He rolled up the sleeves on his coat before offering his forearm to her. She looked at the _ parabatai  _ rune and felt a sense of pride fill her chest. She then scrawled several Marks on his arm: agility, endurance, and stamina. Bucky rolled down his sleeve and the three other Shadowhunters gathered up their things.  _

_ Before he stepped out of the apartment, he gave her one last small smile. He and Addison didn’t even need to speak to communicate. The look in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek gave a clear message:  _ Be good _. _

_ Addison thought of this as she stared blankly out the rain-filled window. She had a nagging feeling in her stomach; she couldn’t let go of the sense that there was something going on, that Bucky and everyone else needed her out there.  _

_ She shut her eyes hard.  _ No _ , Addison thought to herself, _ Don’t let yourself think like that. Bucky said to stay here, so you should stay here.

_ She sat there for a few moments, staring down at her book. The feeling wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she tried to push it from her mind. _

_ After a few more moments, Addison sighed, quickly shutting the book and putting on Shadowhunter gear. She fastened on a belt before tucking her  _ stele _ and  _ Alitheia _ into it. _

To be fair _ , Addison thought to herself as she ran out after them,  _ it was really stupid of Bucky to think I’d listen to him.

* * *

_ Addison found herself wandering through a dark alley in the historic side of town. She remembered Bucky saying something about meeting a lead in the Shadow Market. Apparently, the market was disguised as an old pub. On a small sign hanging over the alley, she read “Seabrook Pub”. However, there was no door; Addison knocked a small combination on the bricks before whispering the password, “Gazar nady garzane garsick.” _

_ Bucky’s friend Stacey said that her informant claimed it was some ancient demon tongue. Addison had a feeling it just meant something stupid so that whoever owned the place could laugh at anyone who walked in. _

_ The bricks began to rumble and dust erupted from the wall. Addison stepped back and suddenly the bricks began to displace, forming a small doorway. On the other side was the Boston Shadow Market.  _

_ Addison had never been to a Shadow Market before. Hell, she had never even seen this many Downworlders in one place. Her parents had warned her that Downworlders were awful, untrustworthy people. As a member of the Council, her mom Missy tried to take away Downworlder rights. She petitioned to keep Downworlders out of Alicante and even wanted to cast spells that would restrict their magical abilities. Her peers at the Academy had said that her mom was a bigot. Addison had never really understood why, but from how her mom explained it, Downworlders were a threat to all Shadowhunters. _

_ Addison stepped through the doorway, then heard the shuffle of the bricks scraping back in place behind her. Hundreds of stands were on display. Although the market was supposedly in an old abandoned building, the night sky was laid out above her. It looked as if the roof had been blown off, the walls appeared like the ruins of a war-torn building. A couple of pixies whirred past her face, stealing her gaze from the twilight sky above. Addison looked at her surroundings. Several Downworlders gave her side glances, some averting their gaze and others packing up their booths. A vampire shoved a collection of dazzling crystals into a sack before disappearing into an alley. A warlock made eye contact with Addison before putting a hood on her head and disappearing into the crowd. _

_ Her first impulse was to follow them, to see what they were up to, what they were hiding.  _ No _ , Addison thought to herself,  _ You’re here to follow Bucky and fuck up whatever monster asshole decides to show its face. _ Addison looked at the Downworlders around her _ . Or at least gives me a reason to fuck them up.

_ Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm. Addison immediately reached for a dagger and turned to whoever it was, aiming the blade at their stomach. Standing there, holding her arm was a tall, tanned werewolf boy, a flirty grin splayed on his lips. After a moment, the boy looked down to see the dagger.  _

_ “Well,” he said, “If that were silver, I would’ve been offended.” _

_ She gave him an incredulous look, caught off guard by his joking attitude. _

_ “Are you gonna put that away or am I going to spend this whole conversation worrying you’ll kill me?” _

_ She tucked the dagger back into her belt, still caught off guard. _

_ “Alright, but make it quick. The only thing worse than my high kick is my low kick.” Addison said. _

_ “Woah,” he said, his flirty grin amused, “When people told me there were Shadowhunters around, I didn’t think they were so  _ rude.”

_ She scrunched her face, annoyed. This boy was just wasting her time; she needed to find Bucky. _

_ “Where did you see the other Shadowhunters?” She asked, her voice low, telling him to cut the crap.  _

_ Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the other side of the market, followed by a piercing shriek, stealing the two’s attention. Addison’s hand darted for her sword, and then charged towards the noise, leaving the werewolf standing behind her. Her mind drowned out the sound of patrons shouting, and focused on finding her  _ parabatai _.  _

_ She could feel Bucky on the other side of the market; it felt like there was a string connecting them, pulling her to him.  _

_ Suddenly, she felt her heart squeeze. Addison yelped in pain, falling and rolling on the concrete. She laid there, her head pounding and her breathing shallow.  _

_ Another surge of pain ripped through her chest. She yelled in agony, grasping her heart. Her vision went white; her heart was being ripped out of her chest. Tears streamed out of her eyes as she cried out in agony at the clear, dusky sky above her.  _

_ The skin on her right shoulder burned as if she was being branded. Addison could no longer feel Bucky on the other side of the market. She knew if she looked at her shoulder where the  _ parabatai  _ rune once lied, there would be only a white scar; their bond was severed.  _

_ The reality was clear to her as she writhed in agony on the floor of the Shadow Market: her  _ parabatai  _ was dead. _

* * *

Addison woke with a shriek in her throat. Her heart jerked in her chest, her breathing rapid. Her hand immediately rushed to her heart, which was beating furiously. Her room was completely silent besides the pounding in her ears and her ragged breaths.

She looked around. She was in the Seattle Institute, just as before. She tried to take deep breaths. But she couldn’t shake the feeling. She pulled up her sleeve to see the white scar on her shoulder, blazing like a bright star.

Suddenly, a persistent pounding reverberated on her door, startling her. She jumped off the bed and tried her best to navigate across the dark room. Once she found the door knob, she yanked it open to see a disheveled Zed. He gave her a wild, incredulous look.

“Are you okay?” He said, breathing heavily. “What happened?” At her confused look, he explained in a rush, “I heard a scream from your room and I didn’t know what happened so I ran over here as fast as I could.”

“Oh,” she said, “I-I just had a bad dream. That was all.”

“Are you sure?” He gave her a worried look as he gained his bearings. 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine.” Addison said, remembering what had happened the night before. She crossed her arms and averted her gaze. “Night, Zed.”

“Oh,” he said, remembering last night’s fight. “Sorry to bother you. Night.”

The boy shuffled back down the hallway. Addison closed the door, her room once again consumed in darkness.

_ I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep after that _ , she thought to herself.

* * *

“Wait, what?” Eliza said, giving Zed an incredulous look. “And you trust this girl? After she lied to you? To Zevon?”

Zed, Eliza, and Bonzo all stood in the training room in the Institute. Bonzo and Eliza were sparring while Zed stood in the corner, tussling with a punching bag. They both stopped to look at him, similar questioning looks on their faces. 

“Listen,” Zed said, “I can’t explain why. But this lead she’s chasing, I have a feeling there’s something there.”

Eliza scoffed, “So you trust her based on a  _ feeling _ ?” giving him an incredulous look.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I think she’s telling the truth. She passed the truth serum test, y’know, after I threatened her.” Eliza gave him a look, and Bonzo raised a brow. “But, still!”

“Zed, I love you, but you’re giving us literally  _ no _ reason to trust her. Who says she won’t stab us in the back the second she has a chance?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Zed said. “But, can you just give her one chance? And if you don’t believe her, I swear I’ll let you go to Dad.” He put a hand on his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

Eliza sighed, “I don’t know what the  _ hell _ that means but I know that you and Zoey watch too many mundane movies. I’m in,” she said. “But the  _ second _ I doubt her, I’m going right to Zevon and we’re calling the Clave.”

“Yes!” Zed said, a stupid smile on his face. He opened his arms to Eliza, about to hug her.

“By the Angel, keep your sweaty ass away from me.”

“Come on, bring it in Eliza,” Zed said, moving closer to her. 

“No!” she said, dodging his advances before swiftly kicking out Zed’s leg from under him. “Ha!” She yelled as Zed’s butt smacked against the training mats.

From behind, Bonzo ran up to her, and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up off the ground in a hug.

“Nooo!” She yelled, “Come on Bonzo, you smell like shit!”


End file.
